Heart of the Hunter (15 page)

“No!”

Shaking her head, Kelly gathered up the mugs and stomped out
of the bedroom. Men! Stupid macho jerks, all of them!

Standing up was a mistake. His legs felt like rubber and a
wave of dizziness sent the room spinning out of focus. He knew he would have
fallen if Kelly hadn’t chosen that moment to return.

With a cry, she ran forward and wrapped her arm around his
waist.

“Now will you let me help you?” she asked dryly

Lee nodded. Draping one arm over her shoulders, he let her
help him down the hall to the bathroom, thinking there was nothing like
sickness to rob a man of his pride.

Kelly kept her head lowered as she helped Lee down the
hallway. For all her bluster, she was as embarrassed as he was. Embarrassed and
acutely aware of the fact that he was wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy
briefs. Why hadn’t she thought to wrap a blanket around him, if not to keep him
warm, then to cover up all that bronze flesh? She tried not to remember the
night they had almost made love, tried not to think of how warm and solid and
intoxicating his touch had been.

Don’t think about it, she chided herself. You were going to
fire him, remember? If he hadn’t gotten shot he’d be gone by now…

She glanced up, her cheeks flaming with the memory of that
night, when he opened the door.

Wordlessly, she slipped her arm around his waist, trying not
to notice the way his skin felt beneath her hand.

When he was settled back into bed, she poured him a glass of
water, handed him a couple of aspirin and fled the room.

She spent the next hour scrubbing the kitchen floor and
scouring the old tin sink and when that was done, she washed the stove inside
and out.

She was about to start on the bathroom when there was a
knock at the front door.

“Who’s there?” she called.

“It’s me, Jeff Brewer.”

Kelly let out the breath she’d been holding, then opened the
door. “Come on in, Jeff. I’m sorry you had to come in this weather.”

“That’s okay. Where do you want this?”

“In the kitchen on the table, please.

“There’s another box and a bag in the truck.”

“I was out of just about everything.”

“My pa said you were sick.”

“I’m feeling better, but I didn’t want to go out in the
rain.”

“Yeah. I don’t blame you.” He put the box on the table, then
went out to get the rest of her order.

Feeling safe with Jeff there, she ran out to the barn to
feed and water the horses, then hurried back to the house.

Jeff was waiting for her on the front porch. “Anything else
I can do for you, Miss McBride?” he asked politely.

“No, thanks, Jeff,” Kelly said. “Tell your dad I really appreciate
this.”

“Sure ’nough. Take care of yourself, Miss McBride.”

“Thank you, Jeff. Goodbye. And drive carefully.”

He waved at her as he climbed behind the wheel of a bright
green truck with the name BREWER’S FAMILY MARKET outlined in white letters on
the side.

Kelly closed and locked the door, then went into the kitchen
and began putting the groceries away. She’d emptied one box and was starting on
another when she realized she was no longer alone. Glancing over her shoulder,
she saw Lee standing in the doorway, a blanket draped around shoulders.

“You should be in bed,” Kelly said.

“I got…lonely.”

“You’d better sit down before you fall down. You look as
pale as a ghost,” she said, and then grinned. The only ghost she knew wasn’t
pale at all.

“Something funny?” Lee asked as he sank down on one of the
kitchen chairs.

“No. Are you hungry? We have food again.”

He shook his head. “Got any coffee in there?”

“Sure. But you need to eat. Some oatmeal, maybe?”

“Oatmeal!” He grimaced as though he were in pain.

“It’s good for you.” She sighed in exasperation. “How about
some scrambled eggs and toast? And some orange juice?”

“Anything,” he said, “just quit nagging me.”

Kelly watched him out of the corner of her eye while she
brewed a pot of coffee and scrambled a half-dozen eggs. He looked as though he
were in pain, but she thought the hurt went far deeper than the two gunshot
wounds.

With a weary sigh, he crossed his arms on the table and
rested his head on his forearms. He looked terribly vulnerable.

The urge to comfort him rose up within her until it was all
she could do not to reach out and stroke his head, to tell him that everything
would be all right, that he wasn’t alone any longer.

But she didn’t. Fear of being rebuffed kept her from
reaching out—the memory of his voice telling her to just leave him the hell
alone made her turn away.

He was asleep by the time the eggs were cooked and this time
she let him sleep, deciding he needed rest more than anything else.

She stared at the eggs and then, with a shrug, tossed them
into the garbage.

Leaving the kitchen, she went into the guest room and
changed the sheets on the bed. She filled the pitcher at his bedside with fresh
water, then went into her own room and made up the bed.

When she went back into the kitchen, Lee was awake.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Like hell.”

She grunted softly as she placed her hand on his brow.
“You’re burning up. Come on, you need to get back into bed.”

He didn’t argue and that worried her more than anything
else.

Chapter Nineteen

His fever worsened during the night. Nothing she gave him
seemed to help. Time and again she paced to the window and stared out into the
darkness, wishing the rain would stop, wishing she hadn’t promised not to call
the doctor. If Lee wasn’t better by morning, she’d call the hospital, promise
or no promise.

She made him drink as much water as he could hold, applied
more antiseptic to his wounds, noting that the one in his shoulder looked raw
and red. She taped a fresh bandage in place, knowing she was wasting her time.
Lee needed more help than she was capable of giving.

In despair, she went to the window and gazed out into the
darkness. “Please, God, help me…”

“Tekihila?”

“Blue Crow!” She ran to his arms. “I’ve never been so glad
to see anybody in my life.”

“What is wrong?”

“Lee’s got a fever and I can’t bring it down. I think the
wound in his shoulder is infected.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to
do.”

“It will be all right,
skuya,”
Blue Crow murmured.

And she believed him. Standing in his embrace, his arms warm
and strong around her, she believed him.

Blue Crow smiled down at her and then, because she was so
close, because her eyes were as blue as the wildflowers that grew along the
Little Big Horn, because her skin was smooth and soft, because she glowed with
life, he bent his head and kissed her.

It was only a gentle kiss, meant to reassure her, but it
quickly built to something much more intense. He groaned as her arms went
around his neck, felt his heart begin to pound like a Lakota war drum as she
pressed her body to his. Her heat went through him like chain lightning, making
him feel strong and vitally alive.

Holding her, knowing she could never be his, filled him with
a soul-deep sadness, a hurt that went deeper than pain.

“Tekihila.”
Holding her close, he rested his chin on
the top of her head, wishing that he had known her when he was alive, when he
could have claimed her for his own. Why? he thought, his heart twisting with
anguish, why had he found her now when she could never be his?

“Blue Crow?”

He drew back a little so he could look down into her eyes. “What
is it,
tekihila?”

“I don’t know. You seem so sad.”

“I am not sad,
skuya.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

“No,” he replied quietly. “I would not lie to you. I am not
sad,
tekihila.
Only filled with regret that we did not meet a hundred
years ago. I would have courted you as ardently as ever a warrior courted a
maiden. I would have gone to one of the Buffalo Dreamers to obtain a love song
and then I would have played my flute outside your lodge. When the time was
right, I would have taken horses to your father, as many as he required. And if
he had refused to let you be my wife, I would have kidnapped you and taken you
far away.”

“Would you?”

“Han.”

“And then what?”

“I would have made a home for you and given you sons,
tekihila,
many sons.”

“And daughters?” Kelly asked tremulously.

“Maybe one,” Blue Crow allowed with a smile. “If she was as
beautiful as you.”

“I wish I had lived back then,” Kelly said. “But wishing won’t
make it so.”

“No.”

“But you’re here with me now.” Her arms tightened around him
and she buried her face against his chest. “Never leave me, Blue Crow,” she
murmured. “Promise me.”

“I don’t know if I can make a promise like that,
tekihila.
If
Wakan
Tanka
calls me, I must go.”

“No!”

He held her close, rocking her against him. “Let us not
speak of parting,” he said. And then, because it was painful to hold her close
and not possess her, he drew away. “Come, let us look in on Roan Horse.”

Lee! She’d forgotten all about him.

She followed Blue Crow into the guest room, stood on the
opposite side of the bed while Blue Crow examined Lee’s wounds, his face lined
with concern.

“He’ll be all right, won’t he?” she asked.

“The wound in his shoulder is not healing.”

“I wanted to take him to a doctor, but he wouldn’t let me.
Maybe…”

“There is no need for a
wasichu
medicine man,” Blue
Crow said.

“You mean it’s too late, that nothing can be done?”

“No.” Blue Crow drew the covers over Lee, then went to Kelly
and took her in his arms. “There are plants nearby that will draw the poison
from the wound. I will gather some.”

He smiled down at her. “Do not worry,
tekihila,
all
will be well.” He pressed his lips to her brow. “I will be back soon.”

“Hurry.”

Blue Crow returned an hour later. Kelly watched as he built
a small fire in an old tin bucket, then dropped a handful of sage and sweet
grass onto the flames. Soon a plume of sweet-smelling smoke rose from the
bucket.

Plucking an eagle feather from his hair, Blue Crow drew it
over the bucket, drawing the smoke toward Lee. When that was done, he ground
some leaves that Kelly thought looked like comfrey and marigold into a thick
paste, then spread it over the wound in Lee’s shoulder and all the while he
chanted softly.

The words, sung in a minor key, filled Kelly’s mind with
images of running buffalo, of tipis scattered over a grassy plain, of sun and
wind and the sound of rushing water.

“I brought some herbs which you must brew,” Blue Crow
remarked, turning away from the bed. “When he wakes up, you must make him drink
as much of it as he can hold.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Kelly smiled. “I mean I will.”

“Han
.” Deftly he wrapped Lee’s shoulder in a length
of soft cloth. “He will recover,
tekihila.
He is young and strong.” Blue
Crow’s gaze moved slowly over Kelly’s face. “And he has much to live for.”

The heat in his eyes burned through her, as warm and welcome
as sunshine. The faint hint of jealousy in his voice filled her feminine heart
with joy.

“Blue Crow…”

“You will be good for him,
skuya.
With you at his
side, he will become the man he should be.”

“What are you saying?”

“He cares for you,” Blue Crow replied. His hands curled into
tight fists. “You care for him. What else is there to say?”

Kelly shook her head. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Tekihila,
did you not tell me that he made love to
you?”

“Yes.”

“You would not have let him do so if you did not care for
him.”

“That’s true, but it’s you I love, Blue Crow. Only you.”

Her words were the sweetest pain he had ever known. But, as
much as he loved her, desired her, yearned for her, she could never be his.

“Your love is wasted on me,” he said, his voice harsh.

“No!”

The sight of her tears tore at his heart. Regret sliced
through him, sharp as a Lakota skinning knife.

“Tekihila,
forgive me,” he implored. Tenderly he drew
his thumbs across her cheeks to wipe away her tears and then he drew her into
his arms. “Do not weep,
wastelakapi.
I cannot bear your tears.”

“My love is not wasted,” she said, her voice muffled against
his chest.

“I know. I was wrong to say such a thing.”

Kelly sniffed. “What was that word you said?”

“Wastelakapi?”

She nodded. “Yes. What does it mean?”

“Beloved.”

“Am I? Your beloved?”

Blue Crow placed his forefinger under her chin and tilted
her head up. “Do you not know that you are? There has been no other woman for
me,
tekihila.”

“You’ve never been in love?”

“No.”

“But you’ve…you know?”

“I am a warrior,” he replied, as if that explained
everything.

“Of course,” Kelly said, but inwardly she was seething with
jealousy. She told herself she was being foolish. Any woman he might have had
was long dead, but it didn’t matter. He’d had other women.

Blue Crow looked past Kelly to the window. Outside, the rain
had stopped. In the east, the sky was growing light. His arms tightened around
Kelly’s waist.

“I must go. Do not forget about the tea. Make it strong.”

Kelly nodded. When he started to pull away, she held him
close, pressing herself against him, drawing his warmth, his strength, into
herself.

“Tekihila…”